General Chat

And another Aussie poem -

The Australian Sunrise by James L Cuthbertson

The Morning Star paled slowly, the Cross hung low to the sea
And down the shadowy reaches the tide came swirling free.
The lustrous purple blackness of the soft Australian night
Waned in the grey awakening that heralded the light;

Still in the dying darkness, still in the forest dim
The pearly dew of the dawning clung to each giant limb,
Till the sun came up from ocean, red with the cold sea mist,
And smote on the limestone ridges, and the shining tree-tops kissed;

Then the fiery scorpion vanished, the magpie's note was heard,
And the wind in the sheoak wavered and the honeysuckles stirred;
The airy golden vapour rose from the river breast,
The kingfisher came darting out of his crannied nest,

And the bullrushes and reed-beds, put off their sallow grey
And burnt with cloudy crimson at the dawning of the day

It is so beautifully descriptive that you can close your eyes and imagine the glorious sunrise.

Georgina, I love your prayer, I shall write it down and put it onto my fridge!!! My stepfather used to call my mother 'Niggly Nellie' after the character (his wife!) on Captain Pugwash!' It was a family joke as my mother didn't niggle, well, not that much!!! that is why I now use it as a pseudonymn (spelling?!) The other two poems are both moving and beautiful, and really great to read. It's a horrid morning here so I shall be getting out my books to seek some more poetry, prose or sayings!

yesterday morning was dark for us. we learned that a 30 year old son of one of our friends had committed suicide.

I hope that yo do not mind this very simple piece is recorded here. If anyone does object please simply let me know and I will remove it.

Bless, O God of eternal life,
all who have died
by their own hand.
Grant them peace
from their inner turmoil
and the compassion of your love.
Comfort those who mourn
their loved ones.
Strengthen them to face the questions of pain,
the guilt and anger,
the irreparable loss.
Help us to reach out in love
to others who prefer death
to the choices of life
and to their families who grieve.
Amen.

Spanish Eyes, I AM sorry to read your post. What a terrible thing to have happened, please accept my sincerest sympathy both to you and your friends. One can only imagine what must have been going through that poor young man's mind for him to believe that suicide was the only way out of whatever was troubling him so much. I think your 'piece' is very moving and totally applicable. My prayers and thoughts are with you all.

Nigglynellie

Thank you for those kind words which have been accepted by us all. I cannot imagine how his father will cope, he was absolutely distraught and simply could not think logically. But then who would in such circumstances. Twenty six years ago my elder sisters' son died at the age of 25 from a severe Asthma attack whilst at home....my sister and her husband have never really recovered, and I think of him everyday as I tried so hard to resuscitate him. The coroner was very kind and said that no one could have helped him because his lungs were completely destroyed and yet one always thinks if only...
I shall look for more positive poems or sayings later today

Bye for now.

My niece sent me this a couple of days after the death of my brother :

Perhaps they are not stars in the sky
but rather openings
where are loved ones
shine down
to let us know
they are happy.

Thank you Mummo for this posting

In our family we always say that when someone dies, or even a beloved animal (!) that they become a star and they are watching over you. It's always been faintly comforting. We also believe that even though someone as died they are stll a member of our family and that it is quite in order to talk about them, and wonder what they would have thought and said. I am reminded of yet another wartime snippet:-

Went the day well?
We died and never knew,
But well or ill,
England, we died for you.

Ah niigglynellie,

Thank you for your kind words
.I would like to telephone our friend but feel it would be invasive. We are his Spanish expate friends and would never have met him if we had not bought houses in the same area. he is only here for a few weeks at a time throughout the year.
I told my children who were very close to my parents the same message about stars and we used to stand in our garden and try to decide which star was Grandma and which was Grandad.

we have decided to call him on Saturday on Sunday and my husband will call him.

There is little else we can do, except pray for him.

Time 05,50
Poems for March

"I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze."
- William Wordsworth, Daffodils



"Last day of Winter,
leafless walnut trees--
form is emptiness.
First day of Spring,
clear sky to Mt. Shasta--
emptiness is form."
- Michael P. Garofalo, Cuttings: March

I have a copy of this on my March page of my calendar

"I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze."
- William Wordsworth, Daffodils

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs

And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.


I absolutely love this poem, it is the first poem I ever learnt and was only 6 when I first recited it on stage. that was in 1952!!

Wishing any Welsh friends a Happy St Davids' Day

St Davids Day
A cause for celebration
Carried out in
THE WELSH WAY
A time of daffodils and leeks
Our day should last for several weeks!
A time to hear the children sing
Enjoy a feast fit for a King
And wear our National Costume proud
While shouting LONG LIVE WALES
Lorelei Marks

**

Aberystwyth

The costal tides
Bring breeze to the air
The sweet sunshine
Lights the sails, bow and sea
A glisten from the moonlit night
Saw the dawn flee with fright

Sunny beach of sand and rock.
Mocking birds who sing and talk
Washed up wonders
Broken things
Reincarnated with springs sweet wings
A dew which sets
From morning gale
Emily Kingston

**

St Davids Day Poems

Our Noble Wye

On the banks of this gentle, noble Wye,
Where you and I did sit and dream,
Of days to come, and times to be,
And nights of dancing fleeting by,
To taste the things of youth and try,
When we were young love, you and I.
We did not fear age creeping by,
No thought gave we to growing old,
When in our youth both quick and free,
As we sat on the bank of Noble Wye,
So much in love, just you, and I,
Closer now as the years go by.
Old time, and youth, how fast they fly,
Just memories of those days remain,
An age it seems, since we sat in love,
Two as one, just you, and I,
Watching the river gliding by,
On the willowed banks of the Noble Wye.
We dreamed as the river ran swiftly by,
Of houses gardens, and children too,
We swore that we would never part,
And swore true love until we die,
And those eyes I hoped would never cry,
On the banks of the gentle Noble Wye.
The summer breeze singing in grasses dry,
The songs we knew so long ago,
And the dancing on the village green,
The cygnets call as they learn to fly,
Leather on Willow, and the fielders cry,
Echo down through the ages of the Noble Wye,
As we lay in wind blown grasses high,
And recall those days when first we met,
Places we knew, still in memory clear,
And our life together, you and I,
Like the hurrying water passing by,
The banks of this gentle, Noble Wye.
Gwyn Tilley

This poem caught my eye, again I find it quite harassing.

'The Snare' by James Stephens.

I hear a sudden cry of pain!
There is a rabbit in a snare:
Now I hear the cry again,
But I cannot tell from where.

But I cannot tell from where
He is crying out for aid;
Crying on the frightened air,
Making everything afraid.

Making everything afraid,
wrinkling up his little face,
As he cries again for aid;
And I cannot find the place!

And I cannot find the place
Where his paw is in the snare;
Little one! Oh, little one!
I am searching everywhere.

Thanks nellie,
it was one of a few pieces I wrote during a very bad year.

Spanisheyes, I'm so sorry for your loss, a family friend commited suicide last summer. It is such an awful thing. My thoughts are with you.

A belated thank you for your St.Davids Day wishes. I love the poems especially St.Davids Day. I am distantly connected to John Ceirog Hughes the Welsh poet and Bard.

I love this - author unknown

17th Century Nun's Prayer

Lord thou knowest better than I know myself that Iam growing older
and will someday be old.
Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every
subject and on every occasion.
Release me from craving to straighten out everybody's affairs.
Make me thoughtful but not moody: helpful but not bossy.
With my vast store of wisdon, it seems a pity not to sue it all, but Thou
knowest Lort that I want a few friends at the end.
Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; giv me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my sches and pains. They are increasing and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by.
I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of other pains, but help me to endure them with patience.
I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessing cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.
Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a Saint - some of them are so hard to live with -but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil.
Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places and talents in unexpected people. And, give me O Lord, the grace to tell them so.
AMEN

OOH welshbird201, maybe you have the same talent? Perhaps you could post some more of his work?

Georgina I am sorry that last year was not good for you, as soon as I started reading I said to myself I think this is really about a person andhow clever of them to be ablle to write about it in thiis style.
I hope that this year is kinder to you.. Please send us some of you other poems.

I will try to add some more during this week.

Will do, talk to you soon.